


The Road to Hell

by Magi_Silverwolf



Series: Shades of the Past [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Madness, Dark Magic, Gen, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Magical Bonds, Quasi-Sentient Magic, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Violence, Wizarding Politics, Wizarding Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 20:57:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14505345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magi_Silverwolf/pseuds/Magi_Silverwolf
Summary: Sometimes redemption is beyond any possible reach.





	The Road to Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.  
> Warnings: This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. This fic in particular presents the use of a love potion, creating a situation where consent is not possible. There’s also repeated use of a canon slur. Please utilize understanding of personal sensitivities before and while reading.  
> Author’s Note (Words to Know): Redemption means the absolution of some error, sin, or evil. It can also mean the clearance of debt and/or the re/gaining of possession in exchange for a payment of some sort; to popple means to flow in a tumbling or rippling way, as similar to water in a fountain.  
> Author’s Note(s): I would like to take this time to remind my readers that I do not adhere to consistently to things that do not appear in the basic seven books of the series. As such, you will notice reading this story that Andromeda is the oldest of the Black sisters and is in Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin. Although I don't think it is mentioned exactly in the fic, I am using a December birth date for Bellatrix, which means that she is older than most of her year. So yes, she is a fifteen-year-old who is a fourth year. Likewise, Sirius has a November birth date which means that despite only being a second year in this fic, he is thirteen. Also present, at least in the last setting, are first years Narcissa and Regulus. It should be noted that I follow the Black Tapestry from the books, not the revised family tree given out in anticipation for the new movies. Hence, why James Potter is referenced as if he's a direct descendant of a Black (Dorea, in this case) rather than simply a cousin.

-= LP =-  
The Road to Hell  
-= LP =-  
“You have to be a little contrite to get redemption.” – Steve Madden  
-= LP =-

 

Andromeda’s magic prickled against her skin, like the hair of an animal rising in warning. She moved as fluid as a snake just in time to have her attacker’s blade slice nothing more than a fold of robe. Dancing backwards out of reach, she hissed at the grinning boy. Clearly proud of himself for having gotten so close, Sirius pressed forward into her space. With the quickness of a viper, she struck out with her own dagger. Sirius bit back a cry at the shallow stab to the meat of his shoulder.

 

“Too slow, cousin,” she taunted, earning a canine-like growl from the thirteen-year-old. “Growing like a cur now? Has living in the House of the Brave corrupted you so much? What would your _dear mother_ think?”

 

“Shut up, you stupid bird!” As he shouted the words, he charged. His temper made his swings go wide all of their own. She laughed as she twirled easily out of the way of them and then teasingly back only to leave once more.

 

“Is that supposed to be an insult, cousin?” She laughed before whacking him insultingly on the cheek with the flat of one of her blades. He gave another growl as his attempted counter missed. “What am I meant to be ashamed of? My Sorting?” She smacked him on the opposite cheek before dodging under his arm. With the heel of her boot on the small of his back, she shoved him forward into a stumble. “Or my sex? I thought you _liked_ birds, little kitty.”

 

“I’ll show you _little_!” Sirius declared, already turning for another attack. Her magic surged against her control. The distraction lasted only a moment but even that was enough to let Sirius slice off a curl that had escaped her tightly plaited hair. For his effort, she returned the favor to a chunk of his own hair, foolishly left half loose. For added insult, she laughed at his indigent growl as she retreated.

 

“You shouldn’t have left the opening, kitten,” she taunted, trying to let her magic whip around her as it must be seeking to do. “If you leave an opening, you must always expect an attack.”

 

“Yes, and an attack deserves one back,” Sirius countered, pressing forward. They finished the mantra together.

 

“Revenge is a given if you cross a Black.”

 

This time the surging magic knocked her to her knees. Sirius was on her in less than a heartbeat, one of his daggers aligned with her jugular. She would have been proud of the kid if her magic wasn’t _screaming_ at her. His triumphant crowing sounded like it was coming from another room rather right beside her ear. She was barely aware of his movements, the sheathing of both of their sets of daggers along with him wrapping himself physically around her, as she struggled to process the information that her magic, pure and darkly rich as befitting a Black, was shoving through her mind. She was more aware of the curl of his magic around hers, smoothing the growing distress with the familial magic imbued in him due to his position as Heir.

 

“Hey, you back yet?” Sirius asked eventually. His breathing was ragged, a direct contrast to how even it had been for the entirety of their spar. “I’m not really good at this family magic bullshit—”

 

“Language, kitten,” Andromeda interrupted. Sirius turned his head just enough to bite her neck right above her collar. She knocked him sharply in the temple with her chin. “Biting now, cousin? You truly are becoming a dog, aren’t you?”

 

“I’m gonna die laughing,” Sirius snarked in return. He pulled away to look at her, dark gray eyes meeting her matching ones. “Seriously, Andy, what made your family magic act up like that? Grandmother Melania taught you better control than to let a friendly spar trigger the Madness. ‘Sides, it’s not like I’m a challenge to you. Which means that had to be _something else_.”

 

“Nothing gets by you, does it?”

 

“An- _dee_ ,” he whined.

 

“Seer- _ee_ ,” she echoed in a mockingly matching whine. Then she just breathed for a moment. The Black Madness, a remnant of the battle magic their ascendants had used in the founding of their House, still surged through her, demanding satisfaction, _vengeance_ , for some currently unknown wrong. Like caressing a feral cat, she touched the roiling energy within her magical core, crooning an inquiry. The answer was instantaneous as the Madness bucked against her control once more. Sirius gave a high-pitched yelp in her ear as the magic gnashed at even _his_ control, full of sharp teeth. His arms tightened around her shoulders as he rode the wave with her.

 

“It’s _Ted_ ,” she declared. “Something has happened to _Ted_.”

 

“Oh, Loki’s Balls,” Sirius cursed. “When the fuck did you _bond_ with the guy? Uncle Cygnus is going to _murder_ you. You can’t fulfill the contract with the Malfoys if you’re bonded.”

 

“Precisely,” Andromeda snapped, shoving the rangy teen off her lap as gently as possible. She rose to her feet like Aphrodite exiting the sea. Restlessly, her magic stirred the air around them, rustling the skirt of her robes. Sirius looked up at her from his squat. His eyes were wide with shock and growing awe.

 

“You bonded outside of an approved betrothal as a _prank_?”

 

“No, little cousin,” she corrected, as commanding as her name would suggest. “I bonded outside of an approved betrothal as a _rebellion_. Now pull out that stupid _map_ you and your minions made. I need to find my bondmate.”

 

“Bossy,” Sirius grumbled as he obeyed, pulling the Map from a pocket. He offered it to her like a supplicant would tribute to the gods. She rolled her eyes at his lopsided grin as she took the map. He may be her favorite cousin, but he was still utterly ridiculous. To add a taunt, she whacked his head with the folded parchment, like it was a rolled newspaper.

 

“ _Ruler of men_ ,” she reminded him tartly, knowing that the meaning of her name was only half an excuse. Spreading open the parchment (and for once managing to ignore the lingering traces of death magic it possessed by virtue of that medium), she snapped out the ridiculous passcode they had chosen. Like water rushing downhill, the ink spilled out from the center, revealing the labyrinth of corridors that was Hogwarts and tiny indicators for every creature and being on the grounds. “You’ve added shoes.”

 

“They show the direction someone is facing. The idea of shoes made Remus laugh,” Sirius explained, jumping up to stand beside her. He licked the tip of his index finger before pressing it to the parchment. “Ted Tonks.”

 

The artifact lifted into the air, manipulating itself into different configurations until returned to Andromeda’s waiting palms. The surface now showed the currently unused wing on the fifth floor that had hosted the Defense classrooms during her first year at Hogwarts. That particular professor had rotated between the twelve rooms in the wing, depending on the needs of the lesson being taught that day. One room had been imbued with powerful wards that were easily engaged by flipping a lever near the door. Professor Shacklebolt had used it to for the dueling lessons, much like the room that she and Sirius had taken over for their regular spars. Even after the Defense Master had left to pursue other opportunities, the wards had stayed strong. It was a favored hiding spot for Ted when he was upset. Sure enough, in the only corner of the room that had clear sight lines of the door but not as clear ones in the opposite direction was a little pair of shoes labeled _Edward Tonks_.

 

“I don’t recognize that corridor,” Sirius whispered. “He’s backed into a corner—you don’t think he’s being attacked, do you? Most of the Dark-aligned families wouldn’t _dare_ , even without knowing you poached yourself, because he’s clearly a favorite pet, but maybe one of the followers that new ‘Dark Lord’ Mother was talking about over break got into the castle.”

 

“I don’t know,” Andromeda admitted. It went without saying that she didn’t like the idea of Ted becoming involved, in any way, with the politics that surrounded the First Families. There were too many nuances that he would miss simply because he wouldn’t think to look for them due to his Muggle upbringing. The position and prestige of House Black was enough to deter the bulk of the more aggressive detractors from taking action against the Muggle-born, even after it was obvious that they were more than simply friends to anyone with eyes. That being said, Aunt Walburga had made it clear that if _she_ had _her_ way, Andromeda’s association (and House Black’s by extension) with Ted would have been stopped long ago. Thank the Morrigan that Lord Arcturus and Lady Melania were the actual heads of the family because Aunt Walburga was delusional if she couldn’t see that blood purity was a stupid ideal to cling to and to do so was growing stupider by the year.

 

Without wiping the Map, she pushed it into Sirius’ chest and left the makeshift dueling room. Unease twisted her gut, tangling with the snarling magic of the Madness. The mixture made her walk faster than she would normally. Sirius scrabbled after her, gangly limbs ruining his attempt to affect the confident stride that Lord Arcturus had drilled into him as surely as Lady Melania had instructed Andromeda and her sisters in the bearing of a proper lady of House Black. Every step towards their destination built up Andromeda’s nerves. She wanted an enemy to strike at, to _hunt_. She wanted to sink into the haze she knew would come from losing herself to the Madness.

 

As expected, the wards of the old classroom were engaged when they arrived. Not bothering with knocking, Andromeda pulled out her Head Girl badge and pressed it into the center of the door. With a hiss that was more felt than heard, the ward specifically locking the door went dormant. She opened the door just enough that her shove against its wood sent it opening on its own, while all parts of her body stayed safely outside the room. As she had predicted, _because she knew her bonded_ , two palm-sized balls of cobalt flames splashed against the door. Both would have incapacitated her had they landed.

 

“Excellent form,” she called into the room, “but the blue is flashy. I’m deducting points for lack of subtlety and invoking a penalty. I’ve been beating up Sirius all afternoon, so I’m taking said penalty as a massage. No backing out, Tonks, and I want the jasmine oil.”

 

“Andy?”

 

“You were expecting Morgana the Dark, maybe?” Andromeda returned mockingly. She could feel Sirius staring at her back. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before speaking again. “Can I come in yet, my love? Or do you need more time?”

 

“You should leave—I’m _fine_ , and you should leave because I’m—”

 

“A rotten liar,” Andromeda interrupted as her magic surged with the echoed pain from Ted’s end of their bond. _Something was wrong_. “I’m coming in. Hex me if you must.”

 

“No—don’t— _Andy_!”

 

“Oh, _shit_ ,” Sirius said as Andromeda froze at the first sight of Ted’s half naked body. She was barely five feet into the room and she couldn’t move. He had long scratches covering his chest. Blood was still seeping from some of them but only in spots. There were also teeth-shaped bruises littering his neck and shoulders. His brown hair was disheveled in the way she recognized from their own amorous activities. All evidence pointed towards— “Did you vamp a werewolf, man? Because that’s a lot of scratches and _someone_ clearly has a biting problem.”

 

“Who?” Andromeda demanded, because Sirius wasn’t wrong about what it looked like. However, she _knew_ Ted. She knew what he liked and more importantly, what he _didn’t_. She also understood what that look in his eyes, wild and frantic, had to mean. Whatever had led to those marks on her bonded had not been something he had agreed to do, not willingly. The Madness was roiling under her skin again, the swirling roughness of it threatening to become a full, poppling boil if not satisfied soon. That this hurt, _this harm_ , had happened while she was off essentially playing left a bitter taste in her mouth.

 

“Andy, honey,” Ted replied softly. He slipped his wand into the holster he wore on his right arm before holding both hands out to her in a placating gesture. “You can’t kill anyone. Killing people really isn’t a solution to life’s problems.”

 

“It would make me feel better,” Andromeda growled. “Now, who did this to you?”

 

Sirius didn’t have the same qualms that she did about invading the other wizard’s personal space. He went right up to the older boy with a long-limbed strut that would have made even Lord Arcturus proud. Even knowing what her cousin was doing when he leaned in to sniff at one of the more vivid bite marks, Andromeda had to fight the urge to hex him for the stolen intimacy. Ted just heaved a frustrated sigh at the invasion, surrendering without any more attempts at deflection. Sirius’ eyes were nearly black with rage when he turned back to her with an answer.

 

“ _Nhywyllach fron_ ,” he said, the Welsh of the potion name rolling off his tongue like oil. As if the name of a love potion that should only be known to their family wasn’t damning enough, Sirius had more for her. “The brewer was Bellatrix, unless Regulus has taken to wearing her perfume—you know, those two have magic that smells a lot of alike. Don’t mention that to Mother. Reggie doesn’t need _her_ trying to arrange a happy union for him. Hey, where are you going? ANDROMEDA!”

 

She was already moving. She didn’t need Sirius’ fancy little toy to know where her sister would be. It was approaching the time for dinner, which means that _all of the students_ would be starting to gather in the Great Hall for the meal. It was where she and Sirius would be headed if they hadn’t been interrupted by her magic responding to Ted’s distress—probably from the realization of what the potion would have driven him to do after the dregs of it had finally released him.

 

Andromeda fought down the guilt that tore at her. Why hadn’t she sensed when he had taken it? Why hadn’t she protected him? She should have protected him. Would he ever forgive her for this failure? How could she even hope to redeem herself for messing about while he was being— Her thoughts snapped away from the word, refusing to even think it about her Ted, no matter how accurate it was for the situation. If he wished to claim it later, then she would deal with her issues with the vocabulary. …If he could still stand to be around her when she had failed so spectacularly to protect him and when she looked so much like his attacker.

 

Forcing down the guilt left only the rage. It flooded her entirely, lending fuel to the flame of the Black Madness. The mixture _burned,_ and the inferno only grew in both heat and size as she neared her target. Her magic swirled around her, making the air shimmer like the horizon on a summer day. It flared incandescently at the sight of Bellatrix laughing with the children of the less-savory Dark-aligned families at the foot of the main staircase. It took less than half a thought to decide to mock Bellatrix the same way she would Sirius.

 

“ _Melofors_ ,” Andromeda announced, despite having mastered non-verbal casting years before it had been become required by the professors. Bellatrix stumbled backwards as a bright orange pumpkin encased her head. Andromeda hit her on one shoulder with a sharply enunciated Knockback Jinx, and then the opposite hip with another one. The fifteen-year-old fell backwards onto the stone floor of the Entrance Hall. She hit hard enough that the pumpkin split neatly into two pieces, leaving the girl panting for breath after being partially suffocated.

 

The students lingering in the space as before heading into the Great Hall had scattered like birds realizing that a cat had stalked into their midst. No doubt the professors would be out to interrupt the quarrelling sisters any moment. The ticking clock leant Andromeda power for her spells, giving her an edge against Bellatrix who had yet to even attempt to fight back. Instead, she writhed on the floor as if in ecstasy, laughing as Andromeda made the halves of pumpkin still resting beside her head explode.

 

“Did wittle Andy find her pet already?” Bellatrix cooed in sickening parody of their mother. “Is she mad that someone played a bit rough with him? Or is she afraid that he’ll want _more_?”

 

“ _Herbifors_ ,” Andromeda snapped. The eruption of tuberose clusters from Bellatrix’s skin made blood splatter the surrounding area. The scent of coppery blood mixed with the cloying headiness of tuberose. The figure on the ground was resplendent in black robes and white blossoms. The dots of crimson blood on the petals glittered in the torchlight of the Hall. Still, Bellatrix was laughing as if she was under nothing more taxing than a Tickling Charm. With careful precision, Andromeda set about making each individual stem explode. She imagined each newly exposed wound was a mark that Bellatrix had left behind on Ted.

 

Bellatrix didn’t resist, of course. She had probably been expecting Andromeda’s reaction since the moment she had decided to go through with the idea of drugging Ted. _Revenge is a given if you cross a Black_ , after all. The words were some of the first lessons that every Black learned, right next to the official House motto and their lineage. The magic in their particular bloodline demanded satisfaction for all betrayals and would not rest until appeased. It was particularly harsh if the perpetrator was another Black.

 

“Miss Black, stop this atrocious display _at once_ ,” demanded McGonagall as she charged out of the Great Hall. Andromeda made one last stalk explode before letting her wand hand drop to her side. “What is the meaning of this? Why randomly attack your own sister?”

 

Magic pooled in the space, not just from the duel and the response from the Hogwarts wards towards attacks on students but also from the arrival of the other three Blacks in residence along with a few of the barely diluted ones like Potter and Longbottom, whose Black ascendants were within two generations. The volatile magic woven into the House echoed in the blood of so many, calling like a siren’s song for something far more lasting than mere _vengeance_. It wanted _justice_ for a violation of one of its natural laws, for a theft of both will and heart.

 

By all that was Dark and pure in the world, Mother Magic would have Her due. The anticipation of impending change, as sweeping and dynamic as the ocean, made the air quiver. The entire room felt full of tinder that was just awaiting the right spark. Each passing second made the magic richer, wilder, _purer_. Aunt Walburga and Father were fools to think things like Muggles and upstart nobodies claiming titles they had no right to had anything to do with the meaning of _Toujours Pur_. How blind did they have to be to not realize that _this_ , the heady taste of magic that lingered on the tongue as much as the soul, was the _only purity that mattered_? It was like the willful ignorance that came into the magical world with the Muggle-borns and Muggle-raised that insisted that Light could only mean _good_ , instead of _blinding_ and _burning_.

 

“Andy is just mad that I broke her _toy_ ,” Bellatrix announced from the ground. She struggled to raise to her feet. Her skin was almost as pale as the flowers she still sported, most likely from blood loss. The grin she flashed the professor was macabre in its clear insanity. “But, oh, he was so _pretty_ when he begged for more. _He wanted it_ , dearest sister, and because you were too weak to treat him as he deserved, _he got it from me_. Throwing a fit will not change that he’s now _mine_ , Andromeda! Mine to _rule_! Mine to _command!_ ”

 

“ _Melofors_ ,” Andromeda snarled again. The speed and force of the pumpkin knocked the girl to the ground once more. The only difference was the pumpkin merely cracked instead of breaking completely apart. McGonagall gasped uselessly while Flitwick rushed into motion, his wand a blur as he dispelled the conjurations, starting with the pumpkin, before addressing the still-bleeding wounds left by the flowers’ growth. “ ** _You_ _will never touch him again_** ,” Andromeda declared once Bellatrix could hear her and with every syllable drenched in magic, “ ** _not while there is still breath in my body_**.”

 

“Miss Black, I would assign detention for this flagrant disregard of school rules,” McGonagall said, her brogue thickening with her anger, “but as you have less than a week of school left before you are released into the world, I will be forced to remove you as Head Girl. I’ve half a mind to expel you entirely.”

 

“Now, now, Minerva,” Dumbledore interrupted, as he finally arrived at the top of the stairs behind Ted and Sirius. At some point since she left them, Sirius must have conjured the long-sleeved shirt that Ted was now wearing. Only her idiot of cousin would think a ginger kitten hanging from a branch on a Gryffindor red background was a good look on _anyone_. With Dumbledore in violently violet robes as a backdrop, the clash was even _worse_. “I’m sure this is just a youthful bit of exuberance that just got blown out of proportion. Miss Black will most likely be very embarrassed once tempers have had a chance to cool. The Blacks are renowned for their familial loyalty, after all. A simple apology should be more than enough punishment. No need to besmirch such a perfect record.”

 

“Not happening,” Andromeda declared. Her eyes met Ted’s, despite the nerves threatening to rob her of any remaining willpower. His expression was open to her, broadcasting only love and trust. The knot in her chest loosened at the realization that he did not hold her failure against her, that he still trusted her despite it. He nodded at her once before raising his chin as he glanced around the assemblage of the Entrance Hall, already defiant and challenging. She could no more violate his obvious permission than she could have let any harm him again. She turned her gaze back to Dumbledore. “I would like to demand an auror be summoned. I wish to charge Bellatrix Black with violation of a magical bond. She used a love potion on my bonded, Edward Tonks.”

 

Silence filled the Entrance Hall as her heartbeat filled her ears. Then the yelling started. Pandemonium erupted as the crowd went crazy, screaming their outrage at the announcement and the growing obviousness of how the professors were going to handle the situation. Dumbledore leveled a disappointed look at her, as if _she_ had anything that she required redemption for, but Andromeda chose to ignore the unspoken demand that she offer her sister any clemency for her deliberate actions, actions for which she still showed no regret or remorse.

 

The faith that Ted was still willing to show her was all the vindication Andromeda needed that her failure was forgiven.

 

Redemption tasted just as sweet as revenge.

 

-= LP =-  
An Ending  
-= LP =-

**Author's Note:**

> Competition/Challenge Block:  
> House: Hufflepuff  
> Year: 4th  
> Category: Themed (Redemption) (2000-5000 words)  
> Prompt: Melofors (spell)  
> Fill Number: 07  
> Representation: Blacks; Dysfunctional Dynamics  
> Bonus Challenges: Mouth of Babes  
> Word Count: 3935 (Story Only); 3949 (Story & Epigraph)


End file.
